


Falling Petals

by RandomlyGeneratedSyllables



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomlyGeneratedSyllables/pseuds/RandomlyGeneratedSyllables
Summary: A young Haruno Sakura bears the memories of perhaps the most infamous shinobi in the Elemental Nations.





	Falling Petals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally quite like this one, and I hope you do too!

Confusion. Pain 

Where was this place?

Everything was black, he couldn't see anything.

Sensory deprivation?

Was he being tortured?

He was marked as kill on sight, though, he couldn't think of anyone who would be stupid enough to risk him escaping and slaughtering their entire village just for information.

...He couldn't remember anything actually.

Not his name, not his affiliation, not anything.

* * *

"-kura."

She could hear someone speaking.

"Sakura!"

"Wha- Huh?" Sakura jolted upright.

"I asked you a question, Sakura." Shiomi-sensei frowned. "It appears you weren't paying attention."

Behind her she could hear Ami snickering.

She wilted. "I'm sorry, sensei."

"Just don't let it happen again."

"Now, who here can tell me what clan founded Konoha with the Senju?"

The Senju?

A memory stirred.

_A battlefield._

_Jutsu clashed, metal scraped, the air was filled with the incessant roar of battle, the sounds of metal on metal, flesh on flesh, a thousand voices calling out a thousand jutsu._

_She looked down at her gloved hands, fingers tightening around the handles of her weapons._

_A kama, and a gunbai attached by a chain._

_"-ra!" Someone was calling her name._

_She looked up at him. It was her brother._

_"Izuna." She smiled._

Sakura felt a wave of

(fondnesshappiness _loveguiltgrief **despairbitternessangerRAGE)**_

emotion wash over her, and then felt confused as to why.

Who was that?

She didn't know anyone with that name.

But... At the same time she knew she did.

* * *

 

It stayed on Sakura's mind all day, that strange half memory, and she found herself contemplating it still, as she sat on a park bench after the Academy ended.

As her parents were away on a business trip, she was free to do as she wished, and right now she wished to sit and stare at the ground.

After a while she glanced up at the people smiling and laughing as they went about their daily lives, started to smile as well, and then-

Stopped, because she'd noticed what was happening further down the street.

A blonde boy with a spiral on his shirt was trudging dejectedly down the sidewalk, and around him the people were edging away, whispering fearfully and pulling their children closer.

Something about the scene made her mind recoil.

Something about the distrust shown to someone who didn't appear to hold any ill will, just a sort of sullen resignation.

(The villagers whispered about him and his clan, he knew. He could hear them, sometimes. _Stay away from him,_ They told their children, looking fearfully in his direction. _He's unstable. It's in the blood._ Such things had always stung, like bits of gravel on bare skin, but what had truly infuriated him was the hatred and disgust leveled at his former clansmen. _Don't trust the red-eyed ones._ They said. _They're dangerous. The Hokage should just put them down like the mad dogs they are._ He had never understood why they stayed in a village that didn't even appreciate them. His clan had chosen to trust the Senju despite his warnings, to turn their backs in him for the sake of peace, and Konoha should honor them for that, but instead they dismissed the sacrifice of one of the clan's strongest shinobi in favor of distrustful looks and disgusted mutterings.)

She shook her head, dispelling the foreign thoughts and memories, all steeped in a mixture of helpless anger and bitter nostalgia.

When she looked up again, the boy had reached her bench. She recognized that mood, she realized, had seen it in the surface of the lake where she'd gone to think.

(Brooding, Hashirama had always called it, or sulking, if he'd been feeling particularly immature.)

If no-one snapped him out of it, he'd just continue that way forever, his mind a stew of unpleasant thoughts, all the things bottled up tight and hidden from the world corrupting his thoughts until there was nothing left but darkness.

(Of course she knew, that's what had happened to him, after all.)

Sakura sighed. She had no patience with brats, but she couldn't just ignore the child.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts? Questions? Criticisms?  
> Be sure to share them in the comments below!


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